Tellers of Lies [UNEDITED]

Chapter 28

Calix

If I were to describe Isha's family in two words, it would be wholesomely loud.

As soon as Isha had opened her door, I could see numerous figures rushing through, inside, and some coming right to me and staring, as if I was a rare piece of artifact in a museum.

I remember Isha mentioning that she has over two-hundred relatives, from both her parents' side. Then the number of people right now inside Isha's apartment, aren't even half of them. If I didn't catch everything wrong then we (doesn't this sound like we are a married couple—okay, perhaps I should stop) are being visited by Isha's parents, her paternal uncle and aunt and their partners, and her three maternal aunts, and their husbands. Not to mention, four of them (three men, one woman), who seem to be close to Isha's age are, I am assuming her cousins. There is also a little baby, who has been sitting in his perambulator and for some reason, giving me stoic, sour stares. Quite a contrast to his elder sister, a seven-year-old girl, who has been blushing every time I politely smile at her.

And I finally got to meet Isha's two sisters, Anvi and Aria.

All in all, it's a chaos. Well, a lovely chaos.

I take that back. I feel suffocated under the eyes of Isha's father, her paternal uncle Arnab Sen, paternal aunt's husband Sourav Das, and her three maternal aunts' husbands, Debjit Roy, Tiyash Chatterjee and Deb Bala. Along with her cousin brothers, (extremely tall and muscular cousin brothers, must I add), Aayush, Bijoy and Sanjib. The suffocating part is, none are smiling.

And I repeat, none. It is as if they are soldiers interrogating a criminal. Me. I am afraid.

Oh, her cousin sister Esha is also present but at least she is engrossed in her phone. I perhaps shouldn't mention that I am aware she has been sneakily clicking pictures of me and most probably sending it to her friends or posting them on social media. I fear if I do something that might offend the women of this family, my head will be served today as the main dish, by these men.

"So." I turn my full attention to one of the cousin brothers, whose name is Bijoy, when he speaks up in his gruff voice. I must add, he has the potential of becoming a model, judging from his strikingly charming looks, physique, and height. I feel intimidated and frightened, even by looking into his dark eyes. "You are Isha's boyfriend."

"Yes, that would be me." I answer, my voice as polite as it possibly can be. "Prince Calix Mercuro Sonata Liorsa Tiore, the first prince—"

I zip my mouth shut when Bijoy puts up a palm, motioning me to stop speaking.

"I did not ask for a royal greeting, did I?"

My lips curl up into an awkward, forced smile, as the air thickens. "I was merely introducing myself."

His piercing glare stares right into my soul. Not only his glare, but of all the men I have found myself surrounded with. Perhaps it is my fault, and they might think I was trying to flaunt the fact I am a prince. But that was never the intention and a habit I had picked up during my etiquette classes. I should probably apologize. As I open my mouth with the notion of giving a genuine apology, the words get stuck in my throat when, like a deer caught in the headlights, the men (even Isha's cousin sister), burst out into fits of laughter. Intense laughter that can bring tears to one's eyes.

With a confused frown and fiddly smile, I watch them laughing, as the phrase goes, their asses off. Sensing my state of perplexity, Esha (the cousin sister) is kind enough to explain what in the world is going on here.